


Depleted

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [327]
Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e24 Heroine, Episode: s03e22 The Best Way Out is Always Through, Episode: s05e18 Dead Man's Tale, Episode: s05e24 Hurt Me Hurt You, Euglassia Watsonia, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-29 15:59:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: depleted: verb: di-ˈplēt: to be emptied of a principal substance; lessened markedly in quantity, content, power, or valueLatin depletus, past participle of deplēre, from de- + plēre to fill





	1. Summer 2018

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scrub456](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrub456/gifts).



> My first Elementary story. I have written a few hundred Sherlock stories, but in my recent attempt to stay off of tumblr to avoid Infinity War spoilers, I rediscovered Elementary on Hulu and became a fan.
> 
> This is a scene I'm assuming we won't see as Season 6 begins tomorrow...

She should have noticed. Of course she should have, but -

"Joan?"

That was wrong. He never called her Joan. 

"Can I sit?"

"Please." 

She tried to look away from his eyes, but couldn't. His eyes hadn't changed. He hadn't changed. But he had, and she should have seen the signs.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm a doctor -"

"You're a detective," he corrected quietly, with a crooked grin. "You haven't been a doctor for a very long time, Watson. You've been rewired to think like a detective first. The work always comes first, it always has. You know that better than anyone."

"I should have known, that morning when I found you asleep on the couch, you were forgetting things."

"You were -"

"I was busy and I missed it. I'm sorry." He sighed and rolled his eyes, and she realised how truly depleted he was. One of the things that had driven her slightly mad from the day they met was his seemingly inexhaustible energy, but to see him sit so still now was wrong. Sherlock Holmes wasn't meant to be so still. "Is there something I can do?"

He stood up slowly and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can you drive me home, Watson?"

"Of course." She rose from her seat and her instinct was to reach for him, but she knew he wouldn't want her to treat him differently, especially now.

"I'm a bit dizzy, Watson, do you mind if -"

"Are you sure -"

He took both her hands in his and stared down at the floor. "Watson. You know - I know you've seen what was on the scans, you know better than I do what will be coming for me. I understand, truly, if you, if you don't want any part of this, you didn't sign up for this when you first wandered into my orbit, I don't expect -"

"Don't be an idiot."

"Watson."

"You aren't going to do this alone, Sherlock, if you thought I would abandon you -"

He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes flashing angrily. "I don't need your pity. I don't want you to feel obligated to stay and be a nursemaid, you don't owe me a thing, Watson." 

He tried to draw away from her, but she pulled him into her arms, and whispered fiercely into his ear. "Damn it, Sherlock. You're my family, for better or for worse, you are my family. And you will not go through this alone. Do you hear me?"

He went still in her arms and after a long moment, nodded. "Thank you, Watson. You aren't going to make a habit of this, are you? The hugging bit? People may start to talk -"

"People do little else. Now, are you ready to go home?"

"Please."


	2. Winter 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing scene, Joan goes in search of Sherlock, after she hears his cut off message.

"Watson, I just left my meeting..."

Joan replayed the message one more time before she got back in her car. He had left it ten minutes ago, she had turned off her phone as she left the station. She just needed time to think, time to - he had just left his meeting, and was probably heading for the Thai place, at least he was 'famished' for once. In her spare moments, she considered that he was getting thinner, but as was their policy, she made no comment on his health, he was a grown man - he could take care of himself, she told herself, as she turned the corner and swore as she saw him struggling to get to his feet. She parked and ran over to where he slumped against a wall.

"Sherlock!"

"Watson."

"What happened?" She knew the question was moronic as the words left her mouth.

"I chose, in my wisdom, to repeatedly throw myself down forcefully against the sidewalk, seemed a good idea at the time, and no, I am not going to hospital."

"Shinwell."

"Got it in one, glad my trifling efforts with you did not go to waste." He closed his eyes as she felt his ribs. 

"Don't go to sleep." 

"No chance of that," he groaned as he tried to get to his feet again.

"Stop, let me help you. Please. I promise I won't take you to the ER." He nodded and winced as she wrapped her arm around him and let him lean into her as she helped Sherlock to his feet. "The car isn't far. I'm so sorry, Sherlock."

"My guard was down. I should have -"

"Don't." Joan opened the car door and settled him carefully in the seat, and buckled him in. She slid into the driver's seat and glanced at his profile. When had she recently taken the time to look at him, really look? She had helped to shave his head not too long ago, another bill paid in full to Everyone, but he appeared to be very much the same as he was when they had first met over five years ago, a bit older, of course, but she felt something was off -

"Watson. It's just a couple of bruised ribs, a couple of contusions and I'm sure I'll have a nasty headache tomorrow, my ego on the other hand, feels a bit crippled, if you could patch that up, I'd be forever grateful."

"It's -"

"We both made a choice. I chose to -" He groaned as she hit a pothole too fast.

"Sorry."

"I made some evidence disappear that would have sent him back to prison, I'm as much to blame - you are not at fault Watson. Yes, I warned you that he - you tend to see the best in people, it's something I admire about you, Watson, you have that same faith in me, even though I gave you every opportunity to give up on me - you haven't given up on me yet."

"No. I haven't and I never will."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment then whispered, "thank you, Watson. I never seem to do that enough. And I am sorry -" He drew in a sharp breath as she braked suddenly.

"What for?"

"That he let you down. For that, I am truly sorry." He fell into a silence that lasted the rest of the short drive home. Joan parked, then gently guided him out of the seat, and half-carried him up the steps.

"Couch?"

"Please."

"I'll be right back, don't go to sleep yet -" She was going to remind him about following concussion protocol, when he glanced up at her in that way he had that told her she wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. He knew she was shifting from friend into doctor mode in order to maintain the boundaries they had managed to hold them together for so many years, through events worse than this, and she wanted to thank him for the unspoken reminder. They were always going to be who they were, that wasn't going to change; to cross that invisible line would damage the partnership that had saved both of them too many times over the years. "I just need to get the first aid kit, and some frozen peas. I -"

"I know, Watson. I'm not going anywhere."


	3. Spring 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after Moriarty....

"...Allow me to introduce you to Euglassia Watsonia."

Joan's head snapped up at him in astonishment and she tried to read his face. As usual, he was quite inscrutable, and yet, there was a bit of what she thought was exhausted gratitude in his eyes. "You named a bee after me." Her gaze returned to watch the first of her bees, no, their bees, slowly emerge. "You named a bee after me," she whispered, mostly to herself, and she couldn't keep the smile from reaching her eyes, knowing what it meant for him to bestow this gift on her.

"There will be dozens more, if you like, I can let you know when they've arrived..." She could hear a quietly hopeful invitation issued, though he was afraid to ask her directly to stay with him.

She moved the magnifier between them, taking the seat next to him; they sat in silence as they watched the new bees join the rest of the hive. She wished she had the words to tell him how sorry she was, how she wished she could fix his broken heart, when it occurred to her, not for the first time in their relationship, that sometimes all he needed was to know he was not alone, her presence, at times was enough.

"It's getting dark."

"Do you mind if we sit out here a little longer, Watson?"

She reached for his hand and squeezed it lightly before letting go. "No, I don't mind."

"Thank you, Watson."


	4. Fall 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to play matchmaker for Marcus.

He had known at the crime scene, not only did the pair bear stamps of a popular concert venue, but their glances lingered a bit too long, they were too comfortable sharing a crime scene, there was none of the ruffled feathers he had come to expect when Major Cases was asked to step in to take over a case, they were an attractive couple... and he had managed to step his foot in it again. She was Internal Affairs, and Marcus hadn't known, of course... some days he wished he didn't see everything; the signals and tics, the tiny tells that always gave people away, but he supposed it was his gift and though Watson would roll her eyes at the word, his torment at times.

Marcus was watching him closely, he knew he was speaking in circles, trying to apologise for his misstep; they had finally reached if not a true rapprochement, they had become close again.

"In your own way, you are a lonelier man than me." Damn, that came out badly.

"Really?" Marcus didn't seem that taken aback, he seemed almost resigned to it after a moment.

"I have Watson, you see, while you -"

Marcus sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Over the past few months, you have been happier, at the very least, content?"

"Yeah, it's been good - but, she's IA."

"Does that really matter?"

"She's Internal Affairs, Sherlock. She's a spy at the 12th, she was probably never going to tell me - if she could lie about that -"

"She's reasonably attractive, above average in intelligence, and you have other things in common besides your shared occupation -"

Marcus rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, "I'm an idiot."

Sherlock refrained from agreeing with him and reminded Marcus with a rueful grin, "you do recall that the great love of my life is a homicidal maniac. No one is perfect."


End file.
